


Whisper The Wrong Name

by skyline



Category: Big Time Rush
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-27
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyline/pseuds/skyline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Kendall compete over Logan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whisper The Wrong Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sick_Banjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sick_Banjo/gifts).



> This was one of two birthday presents for jblostfan16 over at Livejournal.

_Eight._  
  
Kendall thinks he’s the king of everything, and he’s totally not.  
  
He’s _dumb_ , is what he is. He keeps waltzing in and taking everything James wants, like the hockey team and his pudding packs at lunch and everyone’s _attention_. This morning, James’s mom turned to him during his impromptu Madonna solo and asked if he could try to behave for once, like _Kendall_.  
  
Stupid Kendall and his stupid face. Everyone loves him, and there’s not even a reason for it. He’s not the best hockey player in the whole universe, and he’s not well behaved at all. He totally broke the next-door neighbor’s window last week while they were playing catch, even though James got blamed for it.  
  
Today he’s supposed to come over to play, but James is sick of him lording over the tree house in James’s backyard like a little tyrant. It’s _James’s_ backyard.  
  
Still. James might be going a little overboard; labeling everything in the tree house with bold black letters that read _Property of James_. The black lines stand out in stark contrast to the red fabric of his most recent conquest; a Minnesota Wild cap that he knows full well isn’t his. He underlines his name, just to be vindictive.  
  
So there.  
  
Vocabulary isn’t really James’s thing, and he keeps spelling _Property_ as _Proparty_ , which, whatever, popstars don’t need to know how to spell, and his handwriting is awesome. It’s not girly at all, like some people- _Carlos_ \- like to claim. He admires his handiwork on the hat and moves on to his next victim; Kendall’s sleeping bag.  
  
James is actually getting pretty into the whole labeling thing, adding little flourishes to his p’s and y’s to make them look all dignified. He’s in the middle of branding Kendall’s favorite street hockey stick when it’s snatched from his fingers.  
  
“What are you doing?” Kendall yells, and he looks furious.  
  
Good.  
  
James twirls his black sharpie between his fingers. “Repossession.”  
  
Kendall’s nose wrinkles. “Is that code for writing all over my stuff?”  
  
“I’m taking back what’s mine.” James picks up a pair of yellow plastic sunglasses and considers where he should make his mark.  
  
“Those aren’t yours!” Kendall smacks them from James’s fingers. “James!”  
  
“You’re a jerk!” James retorts.  
  
“What did I do?”  
  
James refuses to answer, because Kendall knows full well what he’s done. How can he not know? James picks up a deck of cards Kendall left last week and brandishes his marker.  
  
“Those aren’t yours either!” Kendall protests, making a wild grab for them.  
  
“I’m dividing up the tree house,” James announces. “Everything with my name on it stays on this side.”  
  
He gestures to the cool side of the house, where the vast majority of their stuff (and the juice boxes) are stored.  
  
“But-“ Kendall frowns. “Why? It’s _our_ tree house.”  
  
And okay, that’s true. Kendall helped build the tree house with James and his dad, so he’s partial owner. But James is sick of sharing with Kendall. They’ve shared everything, their entire life; but mostly it’s felt like Kendall just keeps _taking_ it all.  
  
James sticks his tongue out and retorts, “Because I don’t like your face.”  
  
He picks up a super soaker and is about to write all over the shiny neon plastic when Kendall takes it away. “That’s mine!”  
  
“Fine,” James yells. He glances around, looking for something Kendall can’t take before James can mark it up. “I get New Friend Logan!”  
  
He latches onto Logan’s wrist like Kendall might try to break his hold.  
  
“What?” New Friend Logan asks blankly.  
  
Logan’s been in town for a grand total of three weeks, and he’s made it very clear that he thinks all of them are _strange_. But he keeps hanging out with them, so they’ve been counting it as a win. James attacks his skin with the marker, and Logan protests,  
“That _tickles_ ,” and squirms beneath James’s touch.  
  
“Logan’s a person, James. You can’t have a person. It’s illegal.”  
  
“Too late.” James wiggles his fingers and shows off Logan’s forearm, where he has very clearly written _Proparty of James_. “Mine now.”  
  
“Hey!” Logan rubs at the marker, but it doesn’t even smudge.  
  
Kendall crosses his arms and glares. “I get Carlos.”  
  
“Only if you beat me to him,” James says. He’s not sure where Carlos is right now; probably in James’s kitchen, raiding the fridge for pudding. One glance at the way Kendall is trying to surreptitiously sneak down the ladder confirms that.  
  
James races after him.  
  
“Guys? Does this wash off?” Logan calls after them. “Guys?”

 

  
_\---_   


  
_Now._  
  
“I’m going to pound your ass so hard,” James declares, jamming his thumbs into the buttons of his controller.  
  
Meanwhile, Logan seems to be running through the steps of a complicated computer program, using carefully strategized combination hits and kicks to bring James’s character to his knees.  
  
James imagines that’s his plan, at least. Mostly Logan’s only succeeding at getting his ass kicked by little Talim, who is frighteningly responsive to James’s keysmash technique.  
  
On screen, Chun Li dies a painful sounding death, declaring that she’s going to have her revenge. Or something.  
  
“It’s not fair,” Logan says. “You’re some kind of video game savant.”  
  
“That means I’m awesome, right? ‘Cause I am.” James pops a piece of pumpkin pie in his mouth, using the back of his hand to shove the whole thing inside.  
  
Logan makes a face. “You eat like a pig.”  
  
“M’a growing ‘eenage bo’, ‘ogan,” James says between chews.  
  
“And I’m not?”  
  
James swallows. “No offense, dude, but I think you’re done growing.”  
  
“Hey!” Logan gets all indignant; puffing his chest out and widening his eyes. He looks like a cat with its hackles up. It’s pretty adorable.  
  
“I can show you how to beat him,” Kendall announces from the kitchen, where he’s in the middle of throwing together the sloppiest turkey and cheese sandwich James has ever seen in his life. It’s not actually as hard to get mayo on bread as Kendall is making it out to be.  
  
“How?” Logan demands, shooting James a dirty look. “He cheats.”  
  
“Do not,” James retorts. He knows how to play the game properly, okay? He just chooses not to when he’s pitted against Logan.  
Maybe his _technique_ is sort of actually just a filthy tactic, but it’s the only way to beat-Mr.-I-Know-Every-Combo-In-The-Manua

l.

“I know.” Kendall gives James a smile that is equal parts mystery and naughtiness. Then he leans over the couch and coaxes Logan into starting a new game.

At first, James owns. Talim is flipping all over the place, doing who-the-fuck-knows-what on screen thanks to his repeated thumb jabbing. But then Logan starts to gain the upper hand, slowly but steadily regaining life and landing more hits.

Kendall is rubbing Logan’s shoulders, coaching him through the round. When he sees James looking he smirks and leans in close, whispering encouragement straight into Logan’s ear. Logan scores a hit, and Kendall ruffles his hair, all affectionate and fond and _distracting_. James kind of wants to smash Kendall’s head into the wall for it.

He frowns at the impulse, because _really?_  Jealousy is a snake, coiled tight in his chest. James doesn’t know what to do with it. He says, “Kendall,” like a warning.

Kendall’s head snaps up, and he’s such a little shit; he assesses the situation with a single glance. He can see the anger and envy and desperate yearning written across James’s face like sheet music. He smirks and puts his hand on Logan’s shoulder, a possessive gesture.

James wants to tell Kendall that he needs to keep his hands off of things that don’t belong to him.

And in the middle of all that, Talim screams and dies. K-O.

“Owned,” Kendall comments idly, just in case Talim’s death-cry wasn’t enough humiliation. Logan throws his controller on the coffee table, claps his hands, and says, “Now that that’s settled, I’ve got a hot date.”

Kendall and James roll their eyes in perfect unison. “Extra credit with Miss Collins?”

“Miss Collins is hot, okay?” Logan shoots back, embarrassment coloring his cheekbones, like his teacher-crush is some big, mortifying surprise.

Logan’s had a crush on every teacher they’ve had since James met him, and it’s never had anything to do with how attractive they are. Logan just has a boner for learning, which, whatever. Different strokes for different folks, and James has never been one to judge what gets a person off.

Logan gathers himself and flees the apartment, his pace quick so that neither of his friends can make fun of him, probably. James laughs and turns to Kendall. He’s still kind of pissed, the memory of Kendall’s fingers tangled in Logan’s hair stuck in his head like an obnoxious song, but James has no idea what to do about it. He’s uncomfortable with the burn in the pit of his stomach, anger that doesn’t seem to have a rhyme or a reason. He asks, “Want to go in for round…”

James isn’t actually sure what round he’s on. He’s been playing Soul Calibur for at least six hours now.

“Nah. Got something better in mind.” Kendall raises an eyebrow, the look on his face positively filthy.

James knows what that look means. He pushes all thoughts of Logan as far away as he can. “I thought you were hungry?”

Kendall spares a glance for his catastrophe of a sandwich. “I’ll wait until mom gets back. You in?”

“Like you even need to ask.”

From there it’s a race down the hall to the closest bedroom, which happens to be Logan’s, but whatever. Kendall and James fall into his bed in a fumble of hands and legs and mouths crushed together. Kendall thrusts his hips up, rubbing against James in this slow, delicious way that always drives James completely insane.

This isn’t really anything new. It’s not even a big deal. Kendall gets wound really tight, and he needs a release. James likes sex.

Also, giving Big Time Rush’s benevolent dictator orgasms always gives James this thrill of power. It works for both of them.

“Logan, hmm?” Kendall asks, licking the question straight into his mouth. James can feel the rumble of Kendall’s laughter against his own ribcage. At first he can’t figure out what Kendall means, but Kendall does this obscene eyebrow waggle that makes him look like an idiot.

Oh.

James bristles, which, granted should probably not be his first reaction. “What’s wrong with Logan?”

That’s not actually what he meant to say.

“No, no. I’m not judging. Logan’s…cute. If sweater vests do it for you. ” Kendall pulls back, and he actually looks like he’s seriously considering Logan’s cute-factor.

It makes something twist, all hard and angry in James’s stomach. Kendall shouldn’t be thinking about Logan like that. It’s just all…

Wrong.

“Shut up and take off your pants,” James growls.

“I thought you liked it when I’m loud?” Kendall asks with a smirk. His bangs fall in his eyes, shimmering like old gold in the dim light of Logan’s bedroom.

James does like it when Kendall’s loud. He really does. But right now, with sharp pangs of jealousy stabbing through his chest and the scent of Logan caught in the sheets?

“Shut up,” James prompts again, unable to explain any of what’s going on in his head.

And this time, Kendall doesn’t say a word.  
 

_\---_

  


_Ten._   


James hits the boards. Hard. There’s this long minute where all he can see are stars and black space, like he’s swimming through the Milky Way. But it’s not a good feeling; there’s nothing intergalactic or awesome about how he’s teetering back and forth; and maybe this is why those prima donna figure skater bitches have toe-picks, man.

“Are you okay?” Kendall asks as James’s vision clears, and it’s actually kind of nice to see his eyes all wide with concern.  
Kendall’s usually too busy babysitting the other guys to be anything like worried about James.

Then again, that’s probably a measure of how badly he just bombed. Getting knocked around by the opposing team isn’t impressive, it’s _embarrassing_.

“I’m good,” James wheezes. “Just- my elbow hurts.”

“You going to live through the game?”

Kendall laughs, and James doesn’t appreciate that, ‘cause hey, his elbow really actually hurts. A lot. But James won’t say that out loud. There are plenty of times when he’s willing to give into melodrama, but not in the middle of this; the biggest game they’ve ever played.

Not even though tears are welling up in the corners of his eyes, angry and frustrated and pained.

He grits out, “Probably.”

“Suck it up,” Kendall instructs, already reverting to his game face. “Five more minutes and I’ll get you an ice pack. Carlos, c’mon!” he yells across the arena, skating off to steal the puck away from their friend like the flashy showoff he is.

James tries to roll his eyes, saline blurring his vision. Kendall is such a _hockey head_.

He clutches his arm to his chest, cradling his elbow like that will actually stop the pain from radiating up to his shoulders and out to his fingers. James’s entire arm feels like it’s paralyzed.

“Hey, are you alright?” James can feel Logan’s gloved hand resting against his shoulder, the weight evident even through his padding. The concern in Logan’s voice is clear as day, and it makes James feel guilty. He doesn’t want to be the guy who’s dragging everyone else down. 

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Logan pokes James’s arm and James can’t help it. He practically screams, his voice pitching loud enough that it can be heard over the stomping, clapping fans behind the glass.

“You’re hurt. We need to stop the game.” Logan says bluntly. James knows immediately that can’t happen; this whole day has been rife with injuries. The team’s already using their alternates and is short too many players. One more down means forfeiting.  
And they are so close to winning.

“No! Five more minutes. Not even, dude,” James glances up at the scoreboard. “Four minutes and ten seconds, Logan. That’s all we need.”

He jars his arm and winces, clutching it closer. Logan’s eyes get that steely, determined look he has when he’s absolutely intent on being stubborn.

“No. You’re hurt,” he explains simply. And then he skates over to the coach, where he proceeds to inform him that they’re going to throw nationals.  


\---

  


_Now._   


James goes running to clear his head.

He feels weird. Kendall hasn’t really given up on this whole James-liking-Logan thing, and it’s unnerving, because yeah, of course James likes Logan. Logan’s amazing.

When Logan moved to town in the third grade, he fascinated James. At face value, he was this nerdy little kid who actually enjoyed doing his homework and liked following the rules and hatehate _hated_ every time James and Kendall and Carlos got him into trouble.  
But the more James got to know him, the more he saw this other side of Logan; the hockey player, who was absolutely fearless when he rushed the net, or the friend, loyal to the point of stupidity, or the boy that Logan turns into on stage. The a boy with the cocky grin and too much swagger, whose smile turns blinding, whose his eyes go dark and blissed out; who makes it so that it’s all James can do to keep his hands to himself.

James even came to appreciate the nerd side of him; how Logan is like, freaky smart. James has no idea what he’s talking about half the time, but it’s hot to listen to. And James can totally admit that Logan is hot. Between his dimples and the line of his jaw, the kid is way too handsome for his own good. He’s got this self-possession that comes from being told he’s a genius for his entire life. It’s a quiet sort of confidence that James will never be able to master. He only knows loud and arrogant; he only knows how to feel good about himself when he’s sure that other people are looking at him.

Which, whatever. James doesn’t think about that. Thinking is dumb. When James lets himself do it, he ends up feeling wonderfully sorry for himself. He is the master of pity parties, and those are no fun at all. He’d rather just not.

So he doesn’t.

But he’s thinking right now; thinking about jealousy and want and Logan. He can’t seem to stop. His feet hit the pavement; a slap that jolts through his bones and echoes up to his ears. The street is oddly empty for such a nice evening. Silent, except for the thud of James’s footsteps and the way they echo back down the road.

Except the street doesn’t really have the kind of acoustics to make a good echo. James’s eyes widen and he turns, just in time to  
see Kendall fall into step beside him.

“What are you doing?” James demands, trying to even out his breathing.

“Staying in shape. Aren’t you the one who’s always lecturing me about that?” Kendall asks, and he’s barely even out of breath.

“But-“ James doesn’t know how to argue; how to say that these nighttime runs are _his_ time, his place to think away from all the crazy that goes down at the Palmwoods. His mouth falls closed.

Kendall grins at him, eyes reflecting black-yellow; the glow of the streetlights. “Catch me if you can.”

He sprints off, fast and graceful. James doesn’t follow, instead watching the glint of gold in his hair and the sweat soaking through his shirt, right at the dip in Kendall’s spine.

Kendall’s favorite game as a kid was tag. When they were little, Kendall would run through the woods shouting _Catch me_! _Catch me!_ James would run and run and run, but he never could catch Kendall.

He’s given up trying.

Now he just watches as Kendall jumps from one pool of golden light to another, putting lampposts and long stretches of sidewalk between them. He might as well have wings.

“Hey,” there’s a voice at his side, so abrupt that James nearly jumps out of his skin.

It’s Logan; of course it is.

Logan’s favorite game when they were kids was hide and seek. He was fantastic at it, but it was kind of unnatural. At least, James thought so. In James’s eyes, Logan’s charismatic aura was so big it took over entire rooms. James never understood how he could shrink that down and tuck it away, masking his presence completely. But he was always the master at it, and even now, he’s one of the only people who ever manages to sneak up on James like it’s easy.

Logan grins, panting a little. James feels the warmth of that grin fill his chest, a honey glow that spreads from his fingertips to his toes.

“He’s too damn fast. We were supposed to be racing, but he outran me by like, a mile.”

“Kendall brought you?”

“Sure.” Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “But I’m slow. Want to walk?”

Finishing his work out is what James wants to do. But the idea of Kendall racing him to some imaginary finish line again isn’t all that appealing, and besides. James isn’t going to leave Logan all alone on an empty street. Not that Logan can’t take care of himself- but, well, sometimes he _can’t_.

“Yeah.”

Logan hums happily, falling into step with James.

Up ahead, Kendall has completely disappeared, and it’s no surprise. Kendall wants to outrun everything. He likes it when the world’s at his heels. But Logan seems content with this, with being found. James likes that; he likes that Logan slows down to walk at James’s pace instead of forcing James to struggle to catch up all the time.

And when Logan grins at him again, James thinks that _yeah_. He likes Logan too.  
 

_\---_

  


_Twelve._   


“Dude, you have to come. It’s Blood Bath: 3D,” Kendall insists, as if saying the name of the goriest rated R movie around will magically convince James to go. Carlos and Logan are hanging behind his shoulders like bodyguards.

“Can’t,” James says. “If I fail the math test tomorrow, mom says I’m off the hockey team.”

Kendall’s eyes widen. Hockey is the only language he understands.

“Fine. You study.” He shifts from foot to foot, all guilty-like, and then he blurts out, “We’ll swing by after the movie to see how you’re doing.”

“You’re still going?” James frowns.

“It’s Blood Bath. In 3D,” Kendall repeats, like James just asked the stupidest question he’s ever heard. Carlos nods enthusiastically. They’ve been planning on sneaking into this movie for months.

And now James doesn’t get to go.

He sulks.

James wants to see body parts go flying in three dimensions. He wants to see a bathtub full of blood. He doesn’t want to stay home alone, _studying math_. James glares at the textbook lying open on his desk; full of numbers that might as well be ancient Greek for all that James understands them.

Stupid math and stupid moms and stupid ultimatums.

Kendall and Carlos make to leave, but then Logan announces, “You know what? You guys go ahead.”

“Dude, what? You have to come. It’s Blood Bath: 3D,” Carlos performs a perfect imitation of Kendall.

“Yeah, but,” Logan glances at James, and James tries not to look hopeful or anything. The idea of company is entirely too exciting.  
“Someone needs to make sure the doofus passes his test.”

Kendall tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering the probability of that happening if James studies on his own. Decisively he says, “Good call. We’ll give you the play by play later.”

And then he’s dragging Carlos out the door.

Logan sits down on James’s bed, crossing his legs Indian-style.

“You should go to the movie.” James says, feeling a little bad about this whole thing. It’s not that he means to be stupid. It’s just, well. Math is hard and studying is boring and James has better things to focus on. Like his hair. And hockey. And girls. And pretty much everything in the whole world other than math.

He picks up his text and moves over to his bed, settling down beside Logan so that he can see.

“Blood Bath is the most popular film franchise in the nation right now, and it’s opening night. With the heightened security, there’s  
like, a ninety percent chance they’re going to get caught sneaking into the theater. It’s safer here,” Logan concludes.

“But-“

“I don’t mind. Plus, you need help.” Logan looks down at James’s handiwork and whistles. “You really need help.”  
 

_\---_

  


_Now_.  

James doesn’t notice it at first.

It starts with little things, like when James is sitting next to Kendall at the kitchen table, but Kendall is completely, one hundred percent absorbed in a conversation with Logan on his other side. James has to ask Kendall to pass the salt like, eight times before he actually gets his attention.

Which he does by letting his elbow slip right into Kendall’s arm so that he ends up with a face full of soup.

Serves him right.

Or when he’s sitting with Kendall in the lobby, going over some lyrics, and he catches Kendall staring. When James follows his gaze, he sees Logan sitting in the middle of the lobby, helping Tyler with his math homework. He’s got this curve to his lips, a smile that plays over his mouth whenever he’s working with numbers. Kendall is absolutely hypnotized by it.

James’s fingers ball into fists.

It’s when they’re at the studio, and Kendall keeps dancing in close to Logan, their hips brushing, that James decides he’s actually going to kill him.

Kendall is officially being an asshole.

This is a game, obviously. Kendall thrives off stupid little challenges, and beating James is practically his favorite pastime. He knows that James is into Logan now, or whatever. He _knows_. So of course he’s decided to make a competition out of it, like the jerk he is.

And it’s not fair. Kendall’s smart. Not like, smarter than James or anything, but he knows stuff. He doesn’t use his text books as pie plates.

He’d be good with Logan. They could talk about things James can’t even comprehend.

But.

Talking isn’t everything.

Kendall doesn’t deserve to win this. James is the one who has feelings and stuff. And he’s just starting to figure them out; how when James is near Logan, his entire body hums with pleasure. And how, when he’s gone, it’s a hollow feeling beneath his ribs; a space that only Logan can fill. James and Logan click in a way Kendall and Logan never can. Logan’s like a bass line, a steady constant in James’s life. Kendall is a guitar riff; sudden and loud, and never there when he wants him.

James isn’t exactly sure what he would be in this analogy, but he figures whatever he is has to be a better instrument for Logan than a stupid guitar. Everyone knows how to play guitar. Guitars are like the sluts of all musical instruments.

Right?

James can admit that Logan is probably too smart to like him. James gets that. Smart guys aren’t lured by the shiny. So maybe James has to be something other than shiny. He’s not sure how to do that, but he’ll figure it out. First he has to stop Kendall from whatever the hell it is that Kendall’s doing.

James figures that the easiest way to do that is to take something Kendall cares about. When Kendall walks into the apartment on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, James steals his phone. And then he holds it for ransom.

“What the hell are you doing? Give it back,” Kendall demands, trying to grab it. Unlike when they were kids, James has the height advantage. He dangles it inches out of Kendall’s reach.  

“No phone until you promise to give up on whatever it is you’re doing with Logan.”

“James, no. Give me back my phone. James, _James_! Agh-“ Kendall tries to jump for it. James continues to hold it high, high above his head. He waves the cell back and forth, a little gleeful. He can tell Kendall’s giving some serious consideration to just tackling James around the middle, but James is on the offensive. Kendall doesn’t know how to make a move without James having time to do something dumb. Like break his phone.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

James hears a noise, the whisper of feet on tile and glances over. Logan’s standing in the doorway, his hair all sleep rumpled, his boxers slung low on his hips. He pauses. James thinks about pinning Logan against the wall and kissing him until his mouth is red with it, until he’s breathless and begging for moremore _more_.

Kendall takes advantage of it. He tackles James to the floor with a loud battle cry and makes a grab for the phone, only noticing Logan’s presence once he’s freed the plastic from James’s grasp.

“Oh. Hi.” Kendall blinks up at Logan, mouth curving. “Can we help you?”

“What are you guys- uh.” Logan falters, clearly confused.

“We were-“ James starts, but Kendall has apparently decided now is the time to be evil. He leans down and nibbles on James’s collarbone. Nibbles! Grinning up at Logan all the while!

“Um. You can-“ Logan squeaks. And then he bolts.

“The hell was that?” James demands, shoving Kendall off of him. Kendall lands on the floor with an _oof_ , but it obviously doesn’t hurt; he’s laughing.

And laughing.

And laughing.

“I was just teasing him, dude. Did you see his face?”

“It’s not funny.”

“It really, actually is.”

“Kendall!”

Kendall sobers. “Okay, okay. It was just a joke, James. Logan will get over it.”

“And what if he doesn’t? Why would you sabotage me- I mean, yourself like that? Don’t even try to deny it. I know you like him,” James accuses.

“Of course I like Logan,” Kendall agrees. He climbs to his feet, dusting off the knees of his jeans. “He’s smart. He’s gorgeous. He’s funny. What’s not to like?”

“I’m…two…of those things,” James says, a little indignant. It’s not that he’s jealous, exactly. It’s just that he’s not used to losing to someone _other_ than Kendall.

“Logan’s always there when I need him.” Kendall shrugs. “You’re not.”

And that’s kind of the way that James feels about Kendall too. He’s there when it counts, but there’s been more than one time that Kendall has backed out of helping him with some small little thing because he deemed it beneath him, or because he disagreed, or whatever.

Logan always helps James out, no matter what.

“So…what do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Kendall asks, holding out a hand and helping James to his feet.

When their faces are level, James says, “About Logan? You can’t just-”

James doesn’t know how to say that Kendall can’t just _have him_. But Kendall, being Kendall, gets it. He shrugs and says, “May the best man win.”  
 

_\---_

  


_Fourteen._   


“James. Psst. Dude, those girls totally want to go out with us,” Kendall hisses, jerking his finger at the group sitting in the back of the classroom.

James perks up, but his hopes are crushed as soon as he sees Ruby in the mix. Their breakup hadn’t gone so well.

“Doubtful,” he says, turning back to focus on his quiz. James isn’t the greatest student in the world, but he _will not_ get kicked off the hockey team. The idea of afternoons without hockey- without Kendall, Logan, and Carlos by his side- is terrifying.

“What? Did you see the way- oh. Ruby.” Kendall’s face falls. “But I already said yes.”

“When?” James demands, a little more loudly than he intends. Their teacher gives him a sharp look, and he tries to focus on his essay about the War of the Roses. Which was a war. About roses. Probably.

World history is a stupid class.

Kendall doesn’t know how to give up. The word surrender probably isn’t even in his dictionary.

Half a sentence into his essay, James feels the tap-tap-tap of Kendall’s pen against his side. “What?”

“Don’t get snippy.” Kendall presses the nub of the pen into James’s ribs. He’s probably leaving an ink stain. “Here.”

James takes the folded piece of notepaper that Kendall hands him, even though getting caught cheating is the last thing he needs.  
But their teacher is busy berating Carlos about his inability to sit still in his seat, and James has just enough time to see the note; an invite from one of Ruby’s friends. _Movies_? It asks, with little stick figure pictures of the girls and James, Carlos, Kendall, and Logan standing beneath the word.

The ‘ _i_ ’ is dotted with a heart. _Girls_.

James rolls his eyes and gives Kendall a look that clearly means _no_. Spending the evening trapped in a room with his crazy ex is the last thing James wants to do with his Friday.

Kendall wisely doesn’t say anything else about it until the bell rings, but then it’s not anything James actually wants to hear. “Look, dude, it’ll be fine. We’re going to the movies. They’re dark. There’s no talking…no _yelling_ -“

“Wait, you’re still going to go out with them?”

“ _We’re_ still going out with them,” Kendall corrects, crossing his arms and looking all demanding and leaderly.

James scowls. “There’s no _we_. I’m not going. You shouldn’t either.”

“Geez, James. I didn’t break up with her, so why should I be punished?” Kendall asks seriously. Then, after a beat; “You don’t want me to go?”

Of course James doesn’t want him to go, but he doesn’t know how to insist upon it without sounding like an ass.

“No, it’s- whatever. Go.”

“Sweet. You hear that?” Kendall turns to face Logan and Carlos, who’ve been standing at his back the whole time.

James thinks they heard; Carlos is doing a victory dance, chanting _girls, girls, girls_.

James needs new friends.

Except;

“I think I’m going to stick with James on this one.” Logan announces. “You guys go ahead?”

“Seriously, Logan?” Kendall’s forehead furrows. “That redhead looks like she’s really into you.”

Sure enough, the cute redhead winks and waves all flirty-like as she passes by on her way out to the hallway.

“Nah.” Logan grimaces. “I’ll pass.”

James smiles at him, pleased. Of all the guys, he likes that Logan’s the one who’s sticking around. He’s not all restless energy like Kendall and Carlos, and he doesn’t mind when all James wants to do with his time is play video games and eat pie.

Kendall opens his mouth, like he’s thinking about objecting. Then he shrugs. “Come on, Carlos.”

James watches them disappear into the flood of students in the hall. “I can’t believe they’re going. Jerks.”

“I’m still here,” Logan says, shuffling his feet a little.

“You are. Why would you…?”

“I’m yours, remember?” Logan jokes. The words go straight to James’s dick. Great. “Um. Don’t be mad at Kendall and Carlos?”

“I’m not mad,” James says, and it’s true. Being around him makes James feel calmer, less angry. _Horny_. James isn’t sure whether  
that’s a good thing or not. “Much.”

“Yeah. Maybe we could, I don’t know, make up a new code? No dating exes, or something,” Logan says thoughtfully. “Get back at them?”

James grins. He’s dated half of the girls in their school, and a code like that would really piss off Kendall.

Revenge is going to be so sweet.  
 

_\---_

  


_Now._   


Kendall plays dirty. He spends weeks monopolizing all of Logan’s time and attention, and basically James is getting really sick of it.

The last straw is when they leave the studio this afternoon. James is in the middle of talking to Logan about something silly; something that doesn’t even matter, when Logan interrupts, “Hey, I have to go catch up to Kendall and ask him about the-“

James doesn’t even hear what Logan plans on asking. He blinks. “You’re going to go catch up…to Kendall?”

“Yeah.” Logan shrugs, and then he falters. His dark eyes flash, intelligence like lightning, and James hates that he can never seem to figure out what’s going on in his scary-smart brain anymore. “I mean, that’s okay, right?”

“Sure,” James says. But it’s not okay.

It’s not actually okay at all.

Now he watches as Kendall and Logan walk side by side, bodies pressed in tight together. They look good; twin dimples, brilliant smiles, and clever eyes. They’re talking about whatever it is that Logan needed to talk about, heads bent together, laughing. James swallows.

They look like a couple; like two boys in love. James isn’t sure that he looks like that when he’s walking with Logan. He knows he’s losing, and he hates it. This feeling he has; it’s awful and wonderful all at the same time. James understands why people create entire monuments dedicated to love, like it could help them sort out all this heavy weight on their heart.

Kendall and Logan _can’t_ get together. Logan belongs to James, and besides. If they were a couple, then James would lose them both.

He runs to catch up, inserting himself between the two. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Logan says, surprised. He nibbles on his lower lip, which is really fucking distracting, but James is letting it slide here. He’s got bigger, more important points to focus on. Like how Logan turns his head to look at Kendall for- approval, or something.

James snaps. He grabs Logan’s chin, trying to direct his eyes where they belong; on James. Fierce, he commands, “Stop looking at him like that.”  

“James, what?” Logan mostly looks confused.

“James,” Kendall says, his voice uncertain. James meets his eyes over Logan’s head, fierce, possessive. He mouths, “Mine.”

Kendall shakes his head, and James can see what he wants to say, right there, right in those clever green eyes of his. _You can’t have a person_ , his eight year old self says in James’s mind, a memory too clear and too loud.

James wants to argue. He wants to fight.

But then Logan looks up at him, his coffee-colored gaze tugging at James’s heart. James steps back.

“I- um. Sorry.” He mumbles. “I’m just…tired.”

And he is. It gets so tiring, competing with Kendall all the time.

James wishes just this once, Kendall would let him win.  
 

_\---_

  


_Sixteen._   


They’ve been in California a few weeks, and James is sick.

It’s kind of his own fault. Who even knows that an allergic reaction to Cuda is an actual possibility? Aside from all those doctors and smart people?

The swelling has died down, but James still mostly feels all sneezy and wheezy and miserable. Logan’s been keeping him company, but when the clock strikes eight, he’s on his feet and announcing that he’s got a hot date. 

“You’re not going to stay?” James asks, and he’s a little confused, because Logan always stays.

Always.

Logan’s cheerful expression wavers.

“I’m joking, idiot. Of course I’ll stay. Do you want me to read to you? I’ve got, um, the Neverending Story.”

Reading out loud when one of them is sick is kind of a tradition, but James isn’t interested in that right now.

He’s interested in Logan’s face, and how unhappy he abruptly looks.

“You’re not joking,” James says, because he can read Logan better than any book. “Did Camille ask you out?”

“Yeah.” Logan bites his lip. “But it’s fine. You’re sick. I’ll cancel.”

James feels like a horrible friend. He’s struck by the sudden realization that up until now, Logan has always stayed.

But James can’t hold onto Logan forever. He’s not a thing, a possession that James can hold close to his chest for safekeeping.  

He doesn’t know why that idea bothers him so much.

“No, um. You should go. You like Camille, and it’s a real date.”

Logan’s eyes, those stupidly beautiful eyes of his, widen. “Seriously? It’s okay?”

“’course.”

Logan is off like a flash, and James spends the next hour alone, sniffly and sad. It’s only when Kendall barges into their room looking like a storm cloud has been raining all over him that James finds a distraction. “Hey. How was your dinner date with Jo, buddy?”

Kendall rolls his eyes skyward. “She still doesn’t want a boyfriend.”

“Tragedy,” James comments, even though he’s mostly happy. Jo’s a pretty girl, and she ruffles all of Kendall’s feathers, which is entertaining, but the last thing Kendall needs right now is a girlfriend distracting him from the band.

“Where’s Logan? I thought he’d be here.”

“Oh, uh. Camille,” James explains, a little embarrassed.

“Oh,” Kendall says quietly. He doesn’t look super ecstatic about the news, but James figures it’s because he keeps failing so badly with Jo. “Good for him.”

“Kendall,” James says, inserting as much _forlorn_ and _bored_ into his voice as humanly possible. “I’m a little lonely.”

“Do you want me to read the…uh,” Kendall glances down at the nearest book and frowns. “Neverending Story?”

Kendall gives James this look like he does not even have close to enough patience for that. James laughs. “No. Definitely not.”

“Hey, I am an excellent reader,” Kendall objects with an accompanying finger wag.

“That’s a lie.”

And it really is; it’s why Kendall always sings Katie to sleep instead of reading.

Also because Katie thinks the Wall Street Journal is an acceptable bedtime story, but whatever.

“Fine.” Kendall makes a face at him, sitting on the edge of James’s bed. He reaches out and ruffles James’s hair, which James hates in public, but doesn’t mind in the privacy of 2J, where no one can see. Kendall’s been messing with his hair for as long as James can remember, and there’s something comforting about the gesture. Something like home. “What do you want to do instead?”

James has no idea. His watery eyes can’t take the bright glare of the TV, and he’s spent most of the day eating his weight in pie out of pure boredom. What James _wants_ to do is be out in the world, coaching Logan through his first date in forever or swimming in the pool or _something_.

Anything other than staying in a dark, stuffy room. California is supposed to be about adventure.

Maybe that’s why James reaches out and kisses Kendall.

Adventure.

Boredom.

Curiosity.

He can never pin down the exact reason later. Maybe it’s just because Logan is gone and James is lonely, and for once in his life Kendall’s actually right here.

All that James really knows is that Kendall kisses him back.  
 

_\---_

  


_Now._   


James thinks that if he loves Logan, that if he really, truly loves him; he should be happy that Logan’s happy. He shouldn’t care who makes that gorgeous smile come out of hiding.

But the thing is, he does care. Maybe James doesn’t love Logan as much as he should. Or maybe he just loves him too much.

He confronts Kendall.

“Why do you even like him? Because I do?”

“What?” Kendall’s face scrunches up, fury blooming over his features. “Of course not.”

“Don’t give me that face; you have to take everything, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Kendall recoils.

“You heard me. Hockey. Singing. Girls.”

Kendall stares at him, eyes wide and hurt. “James, I didn’t take-“

“You did.” James insists, completely aware that he’s being childish. “Not only do you steal everything I’ve liked, but you just have to prove you’re better at all of it. Best center forward. Best pop star. Best at relationships. And now you want Logan.”

Kendall is stone still, and he’s clearly pissed. James can see it in his eyes, in the way his pupils are blown wide and his shoulders are rigid. For a long moment, he just stares. Then he says, “Okay, dude? Fuck you.”

“Why? It’s true!” James shouts, getting up in his face, because confrontation is the only language Kendall’s ever understood.

“It’s not, you _moron_. I joined the hockey team because I wanted to spend more time with you. Your dad signed you up for the team and Carlos and I _missed_ you! And I didn’t even want to be a stupid popstar, remember? And…I don’t like Logan ‘cause of you.”  
Kendall actually sounds sad. “I like him because he’s Logan. How can anyone not like him?”

James doesn’t know what to say to any of that.

Kendall is his best friend. But…James doesn’t want to believe any of that. He wants to keep thinking that Kendall is the bad guy, because if he’s not, how is James supposed to fight him?  

How is James supposed to _beat_ him?

“Besides, it doesn’t matter how I feel,” Kendall laughs, and nothing about it sounds happy. He shoves a hand through his hair, takes a deep breath, and grins, albeit a little shakily. “Dude, you like Logan. And…he likes you.”

James blinks. “What?”

“Trust me. He _really_ likes you. Stop fucking around, acting like a jealous asshole with me and just…go get him.”

“…you’re not joking, are you?” James asks, because Kendall is wearing his game face, steel and fire creating a mask to cover up everything that’s actually underneath.

“I’m not. He…we talked. It didn’t work out, okay?”

Of course they talked. Kendall is brave in all the ways that James is a coward. Kendall likes honesty.

“What…what _exactly_ did you and Logan talk about?”

Kendall shrugs. “You need to ask him.”

James is up in his personal space, and he doesn’t realize that he can taste Kendall’s breath on his lips, or that he’s swaying into it until Kendall takes a step back, being completely obvious about it.

Oh.

“We can’t-“ Kendall starts, and then pauses. He is uncertain, a skipping stone, a stuttering engine, and James knows what that means.

What they’ve shared has never meant anything more than a warm body and a way to get off, but somehow it still feels like they’re breaking up.

James still feels sad.

He shifts around awkwardly. Finally he suggests, “Goodbye kiss?” Because it seems like the thing to do.

Kendall shakes his head, vehement. “Dude. We’re not saying goodbye. We’re still friends. Forever, no matter who you date.”

“Forever?” James actually finds it in himself to grin. His sadness is not immutable, because the thing that exists between him and Kendall always will be.

Always.

“Absolutely.” Kendall slaps his outstretched hand, a teammate-go-team move to shake off the awkward. “Now go get Logan.”

“What are you going to do?”

“James, I’ll be fine. I always am.”

And that’s not true, because sometimes Kendall looks so small and alone that James wants to tell him he doesn’t have to pretend. But whenever he tries, Kendall is off running again, towards a new challenge, or a new girl, or a new life. Making Kendall happy isn’t James’s job. He’s got total faith that someone will come along someday and give Kendall everything he ever wanted.

It just can’t be James.

Or Logan.  


\---

  


_Eighteen/Now._   


Logan is hiding in a closet. He’s sitting cross legged on the floor with a chemistry text book balanced on his lap and a flashlight in one hand. For a second, James just sees that; how sexy Logan is when he’s all focused and intense. He’s got this whole teacher vibe going on that makes James’s mind go to dirty places.

Then Logan looks up, and the spell is broken.

“A closet?” James asks, because he can’t think of what else to say.

“Kendall’s acting weird,” Logan explains. He arches an eyebrow and continues, “So are you.”

James sighs. “Yeah. Scoot over.”

Obligingly, Logan moves a little to the left. Which helps James not at all, but he manages to squeeze into the space, curling his knees into his chest.

Logan’s hair is thick, sticking up from every angle because he keeps running his hands through it whenever he reaches a problem that requires a lot of thought. James reaches out and touches a strand, and Logan shies away. “James, what-“ he cuts himself off and sighs. “Were you planning on explaining?”

“About that. It’s my fault.”

“Kendall being weird is your fault? That’s new.” James can’t tell if Logan’s being sarcastic or not. Kendall has been weird plenty of times because of James.

“He, uh. Likes you.”

Logan exhales softly, “I know.” His forehead furrows.

“And. Um. I do too.”

“Oh.” This time Logan’s eyes widen. “Why. Um. Are you sure?”

“Sure. I like nerds.” James taps Logan’s pocket protector, joking.

“No you don’t.”

“Okay then.” James shrugs his shoulders. “I still like you. I’ve always liked you.”

Logan doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t look freaked out, either. Mostly he looks interested, something like curiosity and softness in his eyes. Daring, James places his hands on Logan’s thighs, scooting in close until they’re close. “You’re mine,” he whispers.

“You can’t have a person, James.”

And Logan is wrong. James can taste Logan’s breath on their lips, he can taste _him_ , and he knows the same thing he knows since he wrote _Proparty of James_ on Logan’s forearm when they were eight. Logan belongs to him. Not like a possession, not like a thing; like a part of him that’s been missing. Logan is the hollow space in James’s chest; he is a pulse and a breath and the entire heavy concept of love. Being near him is so good it hurts; this kind of deep, heavy ache that is sadness and want and ecstasy all tied into one gorgeous feeling.

James leans in closer, until there is no such thing as empty space between them. Every breath is emotion, is something intangible that James can still somehow feel on his skin.

He kisses Logan, because there in the dark, crowded space of the closet, it doesn’t feel so scary. He’s just reclaiming what he has been missing.

“You’re mine,” James reminds him, mumbling the words into Logan’s pliant mouth.

“James-“ Logan objects, but he’s not shoving James away. He’s moving his lips soft against James’s, and he tastes sweet and bitter, simultaneously. He tastes like all the things James hasn’t figured out how to say yet, love songs and apologies and memories tangled onto the tip of his tongue.

“Mine,” James insists, tugging Logan’s lower lip between his teeth. His licks over the skin, teasing.

Logan gasps, his arms reflexively clutching at James’s side. “Yeah, okay. Yours.”

James grins, pleased.

He's still planning on breaking out a sharpie later, just to be safe.


End file.
